14 Fatherly Concern
by E. J. Morgan
Summary: Q-niverse AU - Nobody has ever really understood how Q's mind works. Until someone actually starts to care enough to ask.


**Fatherly Concern**

„Son, what's wrong with you lately?" – Well, you had to give it to Bill Tanner: he certainly didn't quibble when he wanted to know something.

The question came suddenly and unexpected for Q who had been working on sketching up the itinerary for the upcoming mission of 009 and trying to plan different escape routes according to possible outcomes in order to be prepared in case a quick flight were to become important anytime during the assignment. So when Tanner entered his office without knocking (or possibly having knocked for minutes, only the boy had been too deeply concentrating on his task to hear it…) and started to interrogate the busy Quartermaster out of the blue, Q nearly jumped out of his chair in fright and blinked in surprise.

"I have no idea what you are talking about, Bill." – He settled to answer finally when his heart had calmed down a little bit again. – "I am working on something right now…"

"No, you're not going to get rid of me that easily. I think we all have been giving you space for long enough. You're not getting better; as a matter of fact: I think your state is gradually worsening."

"What state? I really don't know what you mean." – And he honestly didn't. So far he knew, he wasn't behind with any task and hadn't caused any trouble for them to be worried about. He tried to remember back to the last few missions he had been directing and couldn't for the life of him come up with an explanation for their concern. – "Is there a problem with my work?"

"No! Why do you always think that we worry about your work? You have never given us reason to not trust you completely! Hell, M has made you his right-hand man after only having known you for a few _days_! That ought to tell you how much you're appreciated here. Everyone would place their lives into your hands blindly. Why are you so insecure?"

"I'm not. You came in and asked me what the matter was. What am I supposed to think then?"

Tanner sighed.

"Well, I admit, I should have prepared this conversation a little bit more… May I sit down?" – He asked, pointing to the couch.

"Of course. You don't have to ask that."

"Right… Well." – He sat down and Q, sensing it would be about something important, turned around with his chair to give his surrogate father his full attention. That was the least the man deserved after all. – "I'm not talking about your work but about _you_ personally. We're all worried about you, Q."

"What? But why? And who's 'we'?"

"Literally _everyone_ here. First of all because of your eating habits. Or lack thereof, more like."

"There's nothing wrong with my eating!"

"Oh, yes? When was the last time you ate?"

"It was… I don't know… Not long ago." – Around two and a half days maybe? Not long. For him, anyway.

Tanner looked exasperated.

"See, you don't even remember! That can't go on like that! The smallest wind is going to blow you over soon. The others are thinking of having to take drastic measures if you don't start eating normally soon."

"'Drastic measures'? Like what?" – Q felt dread fill him. What did they want to do with him? Fire him maybe…?

"I really don't know. We all hope you'll see reason before things would come to that."

"But I'm fine!"

"No, you're not. You're always sad, melancholic and far too serious for your age. What happened to you? Everyone had hoped that spending some time away, going to a school and make friends would help but I think it has only made it worse."

Q had to stop himself from laughing out loud at that.

"Oh, yeah, really, what a good idea: let's just show the poor boy what he's missing, it's bound to make him feel better! Brilliant, honestly."

Tanner blinked for a few moments.

"Well, if you put it that way… I had never thought about it like that. Oh, God, we're stupid."

"No, it's okay."

"Will you tell me what happened? Didn't you make any friends you could still keep in touch with?"

Q snorted at that.

"Yes, because they would want to keep in touch with me… One of them lost his father because of me, Bill, I'm sure that's the basis of all friendships… Michael doesn't even want to see me anymore! And I can understand him. Not that their family life had been so good or anything to begin with but at least it existed. Now their father is sitting in jail, their mother is off looking for someone to replace him and Margaret and Michael are totally alone to fend for themselves at 17 with too old grandparents in a different town with new people..."

"Okay, I can see why that would be a hindrance… But you said 'one of them', so there were others?"

"Just one more."

"And then what about him?"

"Her."

"What? Her? Oh… Is she…? Were you two…?"

"Yes."

"And did you… you know… Ahm…"

"Yes."

"Oh! And is she…?" – Tanner looked panicky.

"Hell, no!"

"Are you sure…?"

"Do you think I'm stupid?"

"No, of course not! But then what happened, what's wrong?"

"Nothing I wasn't expecting: I came back here; she went to Paris for a family trip and had the time of her life. She had invited me to go with them you know but I obviously couldn't… And then she went back home and met someone… Someone who is near, whom she can meet anytime and who doesn't have to keep his whole life secret and isn't too busy to even answer to an e-mail for days… Also, someone who is presumably socially not as totally inept as I am…" – He shook his head sadly. – "I just knew it was silly of me to hope anything. I'm just not like them. I'm not _normal_."

"I'm so very sorry." – He really looked sorry. For once, Q had the feeling someone truly understood him. The fact that Bill had lost his wife to this lifestyle years ago might have helped some. – "Maybe it was really the worst we could do to send you there. I don't know what we were thinking."

"I'm not sure it was so wrong to tell you the truth. I had always wondered what I might have missed. I actually realized that not much. I couldn't stand school now so I'm sure it would have been like that back then too. Now at least I'm not so angry with my brothers anymore. I can understand them and I am even grateful for them to have spared me having to go to school in the first place. But it's all right I don't fit there. The real problem is: I don't seem to fit _anywhere_!"

"What do you mean? Why do you feel you don't fit _here_ for example?"

"Because I'm too abnormal to be normal but not sociopathic enough to not want at least some semblance of normal… Does that make any sense? I guess it doesn't… Ah, I don't really know how to explain. I don't understand it myself! Nowadays I mostly don't even understand what I feel so I probably can't expect anyone else to understand me."

"But I think I do. Understand, I mean. You see, I felt similar when my wife left me: she wasn't content with me because I couldn't give her a child, a family… I was never at home, not even when she had birthday or when her mother invited us for lunch. I missed Christmases because it seemed like there was always some kind of special situation that required my presence here. I wasn't sure that the being married-thing was really for me because I knew I couldn't offer her what she wanted and deserved but at the same time I absolutely longed for a normal family life and also wished with everything to have a child. And then, the day she left… I hadn't felt that horrible ever before. And I wasn't there! Not even then. She just left me a note on the bare kitchen table (she took most of our kitchen-supplies along with half of everything we owned and all of our savings, explaining that belonged to her since I got to keep the flat), saying she had been waiting for me for hours to talk about it but… well, the late agent 002 had just died on a mission the day before and you can't imagine the chaos… I found the note two days later when I returned home half asleep and in grief for a good friend, my head full with plans about having to hire a new 002 as soon as possible and arrange the funeral for the deceased."

"It must have been terrible!"

"Yes, it was. I just felt totally empty when I realized what had happened."

"Did you try to talk to her afterwards?"

"No. I wanted to but I couldn't. I was planning on talking to her in a few days when she'd cool down a bit but by then I had been in the middle of looking for possible candidates for the Double-O status and back then it hadn't been easy because we still hadn't had this system of training newbies and climbing ranks like now. Now if I need a new Double-O" – Q visibly cringed at the idea because he knew what it meant if they had to fill in a position again – "I know I can look among MI5 agents who have been training for years and are just waiting for the opportunity to join us. Back then there used to be nothing like that, no connection between the two organizations. So recruiting Double-Os was a menace and took the better part of the next month to even find some suitable applicants to choose from. I finally hired Johnson two months later. By then I thought she would just be angrier if I tried to talk to her… So I didn't. And I haven't ever since. I don't know if it was the right decision or not."

"I'm sorry…"

"It's okay; I'm over it and it doesn't matter anymore. I just wanted to point out that I can really understand you. Having your heart broken is possibly the worst feeling ever."

"Do you think we're all destined to be alone forever? Because as far as I know nobody has managed to remain in a real relationship for long. I honestly hope James and Madeleine are going to be the exception to the rule but other than that: nobody. M is divorced too, the other agents don't even have friends outside of MI6 let alone partners and my minions only ever speak to each other and seem uneasy around everyone else. Eve has a boyfriend but she has been lying to him the whole time, saying she's the secretary of a simple businessman… who knows how long that can be kept up. Besides she herself has said numerous times it's nothing serious. So: do you think that working here excludes any possibility of a semi-normal life?"

"It's not a simple question to answer. Basically, I think we don't have it easy keeping contact with the outside, so to say 'normal', world at all. Be it for a relationship or just friendship. It's not only that we work ungodly hours and that HQ is our second (sometimes I think: first…) home but we also can't talk about anything we do during that time. That ought to lessen any possibility for a conversation. Just imagine that your partner – romantic or just friend, whatever – tries to talk to you about recent books, movies, travels, holidays… and you just don't have an idea because you had spent 45 hours straight working not even seeing the sun let alone being up to date with popular gossip. And you're also deadly exhausted and nearly fall asleep during their recollections about their grandmother's 80th birthday party (the one that you had of course missed…) or their best friend's recently born 'cuuuuute' baby girl. (Especially if it's to mock you about the fact that _you two_ still don't have a child and it's of course entirely your fault alone…)"

Q nodded and continued for him:

"And then, just to humor you they ask about your work, knowing that that's most probably the only thing you're familiar with. And what do you have to say to that? That everything is classified, top-secret, so sorry, but 'I'm not allowed to talk about it'. So you just politely attentively read their e-mails about the world's greatest Paris-trip: about visiting Disneyland and dining on the top of the Eiffel Tower, cruising on the Seine River and walking for hours in the Louvre. About how beautiful the Notre Dame is and how you just absolutely can't die without ever having visited the Luxembourg Gardens or the Montmartre. I now know that the Arc de Triomphe and the Moulin Rouge are a must-see and that it's a unique experience having lunch in one of the restaurants on Champs-Élysées, sitting outside."

"And what did you write to her about?"

"Well… there was not much to write, was it? I mostly just told her how happy I am for her and praised their photos. What could I have done? Tell her about the weather in London? Most of the time I myself would have needed someone to tell me about it, since I don't experience it much sitting in here."

"I understand your dilemma."

"And I haven't been to Paris, so I had no memories to share or advice to give. Oh, of course I know all the little streets and allies. I could list without even having to think about it at least 120 buildings that are suitable to use as a base on a mission. I could tell you from where to expect snipers or sudden attacks and also at least 25 routes and ways of leaving the city if the agent were compromised. I have hacked Paris' all CCTVs at least a hundred times and have utilized all their satellites for assignments at least twice. Last time we had a mission there I reprogramed all their traffic lights from here to give Mason an obstacle-free way during his car chase. I know parts of the city no tourist or even a regular local resident will ever see. I know every secret passageway under the city and all the hidden rooms of the Eiffel Tower and the Louvre. But I have never been there. I doubt that my knowledge can be compared to actually walk the streets and see it live and I'm absolutely sure Annabel wouldn't be interested in any of these. I can't think like a normal person, without already calculating the next course of action to keep someone under my command alive and successfully finish the task, preferably without destroying the whole city along the way."

"And would you like to travel there one day?"

"I don't know. I haven't really thought about it until now. I haven't been anywhere and since I'm not able to get on a plane, I resigned myself to just stay where I am…"

"You don't necessarily need to get on a plane to travel to Paris."

"I know that. Oh, I have been there once: to transfer from one train to another train that would take me to Austria... Just to nearly get kidnapped and murdered there… Does that count? I don't think so… It was during night so I couldn't see anything… Well, I really haven't thought about traveling for fun. It's not that I have the time…"

"That's the main problem, isn't it? The lack of time for a life? It's one thing that you should of course decide what you'd like to do, how much 'normal' you'd wish for, but first you'd have to have time for that."

"Probably… But I don't, so there's not much to talk about." – And with that Q decided the conversation was over and turned back to his map of Cambodia to take some more notes about anything that could be important during the operation for the agent.

Tanner seemed to have other idea though.

"And if you had?"

"Had what?" – Asked the boy confused, his mind already elsewhere.

"Time, son, time. To travel."

"But I don't…"

"But if you had?"

"I don't know… I don't have time, so I don't really think about what I would do if I had any."

"But would you like to?"

"What?"

"Have time to travel! Are you even paying attention?"

"Oh, yeah, of course. I'm sorry it's just that I'll have to outfit 009 for his mission tomorrow and I want to be ready with that by then so that I can give him a brief overview in person before he goes out… I've found that the advice usually sticks with them better if I can look them into the eyes when I give it than anything I shout at them over the comms. They tend to ignore me easier if I'm not there to reproach them for it immediately or even give a death-glare."

Tanner shook his head sadly.

"So, what do you think?"

"Well, I assume Peter will have to infiltrate the building during the night when there are not so many-"

"To my question, boy, I meant my question!"

"Oh." – A beat during which the teenager tried to remember. – "Sorry, what was the question again?"

"Q, when did you last sleep?"

"You asked that? I must have been very concentrating on my work because I can't remember us talking about sleeping at all…"

"WHEN!?"

Q jumped for the second time that day.

"All right, all right; you don't have to shout you know! I'm not deaf."

"When, Q?"

"Ah… Two days ago…? Maybe."

"Q!"

"Don't shout, please! My head's hurting!"

"That's because you're tired and hungry! What the hell, boy, really? Are you trying to slowly kill yourself?"

"I'm not! I'm just trying to do my job! The one I've been hired to do? You know, something about being the Quartermaster and responsible for lives and missions? I'm sure you must have heard of it."

"There's no need for sarcasm."

"Look, Bill, I'm really not trying to be disrespectful here, but I honestly don't understand what everyone is expecting of me: missions should go flawless, gadgets need to be developed constantly, agents are to be trained regularly, reports have to be filed on time and the budget is supposed to be calculated in advance, then Q-Branch has to stick to it even though agents are working against us in that area all the time. Not to mention having to attend conferences, talking to politicians and lobbying even for a new computer for the department. Among other things of course. All these I can comprehend without difficulties. These are all necessary. What I can't see is how you can complain about me doing it all afterwards? Nothing gets done on its own…"

"Nothing has to get done on its own, son. But you have a whole branch of workers for a reason. Your department is the biggest and most important within the whole MI6. Hell, now all the Double-Os are under your command! You hold such a great power in your hands what most leaders of entire countries can only dream about. Why don't you use it sometimes to deliver tasks to those who are here exactly for that reason?"

"I do. They're great. But there are things they can't do. They're physicists, chemists, computer analysts, engineers… one of these. They're all among the bests in their profession but nobody can really work in more than one of these areas and see the connections. Someone has to coordinate and orchestrate the work."

"And can't R do it?"

"R is brilliant: she knows the team, knows exactly whom to ask if there's a problem to solve. She is nice and understanding in a way I could never be but is able to be authoritative if needed as well. She is a great leader and superb with the computer. But she's not a hacker and no, she still couldn't oversee a big, difficult mission alone. She has to train more for that. We're getting there."

"And you can? You know all these areas? Or how do you do it?"

"I can. Not because I possess some kind of superhuman powers but because this whole department runs under my system: I worked it out, I planned it all. I built it out. It's _mine_. It's _me_. It's like we're inside my head now. My head, not theirs, mind you. It's understandable that they have to learn it and it doesn't happen in a few weeks. Or months even."

"But maybe if you had more people…"

"Then I had more people to train and less money to spend on items and developing. Believe me: I calculated it all at least a hundred times. Besides, sometimes it's easier to just do something than explaining to someone what you want then check up on their work afterwards."

In the meantime Q had put a caliper and a ruler onto the table and was looking for a paper to draw on.

"But are you happy like this?" – Asked Tanner, eyeing the boy's antics with curiosity.

"Of course I am. That's my life."

"But that's it: do you want it to be your life?"

"Are you suggesting I should resign?" – He had found paper and also a sharp pencil. He had pulled an eraser from one of the drawers.

"God, of course not! I'd be crushed! And the others too. MI6 would probably collaps… I'm just asking what _you_ want."

But it was useless now, Bill realized: he had already lost his audience to work again. Nevertheless he stayed and marveled at the master:

The boy had started to sketch something that looked like a perfect technical drawing of a building's inside area with numbers marking all the exits and windows as possible danger sources but also eventual escape routes. He worked quickly and efficiently, totally ignorant of everything around him, sometimes muttering about 'ropes needed' or 'might have to explode the door'. He made a note about 'check for combustible material' and 'outfit with fire resistant vest and gloves'. He seemed to be able to draw with one hand and write with the other so he didn't need to stop to change tools.

It was actually frightening to watch how someone could work that fast and still so meticulously and Tanner suddenly understood why there was nobody else to do the same. It was just plain impossible! Except that for that one boy it obviously wasn't… He realized with sudden clarity that that youngster's mind could be a very-very frightening place if they had the opportunity to look into it and see it from the inside.

But still, they couldn't just let the teenager waste away as reward for being the best and unreplaceable. How would that be fair to him?

He would have to talk to M and the others. The boy's birthday was nearing and that would be the perfect time to show him how much he mattered for himself and not just as Quartermaster.

Just two more weeks to go…


End file.
